


I curse the fading of the light

by theinvisiblestorm



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: I'm Sorry, It could go either way with Chekov and Sulu, M/M, implied Chapel/Uhura, it's kind of open to interpretation, just a mention of the sexy times, no smut in this one, sort of Academy!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 19:09:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10556212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinvisiblestorm/pseuds/theinvisiblestorm
Summary: This was initially written as an original work, one where Jim and Spock are not named Jim and Spock (for copyright reasons) and there was no mention or reference of anything Star Trek so it may not fit with the setting of the Academy or 23rd century as well as it should. Also, just a heads up, I suck at writing so any advice is greatly appreciated. I just need to write about these two space nerds and I had an idea and went with it.Also, I used a translator and different sources for the Vulcan terms used, so please feel free to contact me/let me know if you find any grammatical/syntactic errors! ThanksThe title of this work was inspired by the song "Evermore" from the new Beauty and The Beast.I do not own these characters or the Star Trek universe. They belong to whomever the Star Trek franchise does.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was initially written as an original work, one where Jim and Spock are not named Jim and Spock (for copyright reasons) and there was no mention or reference of anything Star Trek so it may not fit with the setting of the Academy or 23rd century as well as it should. Also, just a heads up, I suck at writing so any advice is greatly appreciated. I just need to write about these two space nerds and I had an idea and went with it. 
> 
> Also, I used a translator and different sources for the Vulcan terms used, so please feel free to contact me/let me know if you find any grammatical/syntactic errors! Thanks 
> 
> The title of this work was inspired by the song "Evermore" from the new Beauty and The Beast. 
> 
> I do not own these characters or the Star Trek universe. They belong to whomever the Star Trek franchise does.

A man sits on the floor of his room cross legged, his palms open toward the ceiling and resting upon his knees. He is inhaling deep breaths of incense and exhaling. He is not thinking. He is not worrying. He is not remembering. He simply  _ is _ . As the events of the day dance behind his closed eyelids, he is able to recall them without emotion. A shrill ringtone from his comm unit startles the man from his meditation, and he notices a spark of irritation flare as he reaches into his pocket for the small plastic device. A glance at the screen tells him who is calling, and he is tempted to return to his meditation. He answers anyway. Before she speaks a word, he can hear the thrum of dance music, the raucous noise of intoxicated people. “Hey.” Her voice is as smooth and musical as he remembers. He does not respond. “Spock, come on. Just come down to the club. Look, you don’t have to dance or talk or even drink. Just get out of the house for once. This.. this isn’t healthy. You can’t go on like this. It…” The woman on the other end of the line sighs. “It hurts me to see you like this. It hurts Pavel and Hikaru. Scotty keeps asking how you are and you know that Christine is worried too. You’re not the only one who was hurt--” He presses the “End Call” button before she can finish. He knows that Nyota means well, he knows that she cares about him and is, understandably, concerned. But he knows that she cannot feel what he feels. She cannot. And he knows that what has been lost can never be recovered.

•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•

The young man behind the library check-out is watching him. Spock knows this, because he has caught the man looking his way eight times in the last hour. Each time, the man would hurriedly look away, as though he were embarrassed to be caught staring. The longer that Spock watched the other man, the more familiar he seemed. 

It is while Spock is waiting for his books to be checked out that it happens.   
“Hey, um, you’re S’chn T’gai Spock, right? The chess player?” Spock looks up at the man in disbelief; he hasn’t played publicly in at least ten years. Spock composes himself, and straightens his posture. 

“I am, though I have not publicly played in the past ten years. How is it that you know my name?” The blond man visibly relaxes, and he smiles widely as he squares his broad shoulders. There is a look of determination in his cerulean eyes that was not present before.

“‘Cause I beat you that’s why.” Spock’s eyes narrow in suspicion.

“You must be mistaken, I have never lost an official mat-” Spock falters as his memory of the day returns. A young boy had flirtatiously challenge Spock to a chess match. At the time, the other boy had been arrogant, but his impressive intuition and intellect had triumphed over Spock’s. 

“It wasn’t official.” The blond says, his face pensive. The man seems as though he is choosing his words carefully. Almost shyly, he asks, “Do you wanna’ rematch?” The words are a jab at Spock’s pride, but more than that, they are a reminder. He remembers the sting of humiliation and a question that had threatened his composure,  _ “Do you want a rematch?” _ At the time, he had not; he had wanted solitude—all the better to hide his shame. How could a country hick from the dusty stretches of Iowa have defeated an international Grandmaster-to-be? But the prospect of regaining his pride was most appealing.

“A rematch is amenable. When would be a convenient time?” Truthfully, Spock had time to spare, but as desolate as the library might seem, the other man had a job as well as his own personal life. 

With a glance at the weatherproof watch on his wrist, the blond man responds, “I’m meeting a friend for dinner after my shift today, but this Friday… six p.m. is fine.” Without another word, Spock gives a nod, and leaves with his books.

•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•

Jim Kirk. The boy from Iowa who had defeated him a decade ago. Sitting before Spock, Kirk was no longer the little boy with unmanageable tufts of blond hair, with dirt smeared on his forehead; he was no longer all knobbly elbows and knees. The blond sat across from him now, a smug smile in place, eyebrows raised in a silent challenge. Spock's hands itched to steal back his last remaining rook. "How did you do it?" Spock asked, his tone deliberately calm. The blond's smirk disappeared, but his eyes continued twinkling. 

"I saw you playing years back. You demolished all the other kids and I remember thinking you were probably a robot. So I looked you up and watched all your other matches and studied your strategies. You play too logical, y'know? You play like the computer, so you can't handle the random, stupid moves." Spock considered the board, the enemy knight, queen, and two bishops that had cornered his king. 

Studying the board, Spock replied, "That does not make much sense," and Kirk burst into laughter. Bewildered, Spock stared at the blond, and the young man only laughed harder. Spock took note of how the man's shoulders shook with mirth, and his eyes squinted, and he laughed as though he couldn't quite inhale enough air. 

Kirk chuckled quietly once he had recovered, and said, "You should've seen your face. You were utterly bewildered." Perhaps that is simply another social norm, laughing at someone’s face. Spock felt that he did not mind, and found that he wanted to see Jim laugh again.

•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•

It is a Tuesday. He and Jim are finishing another chess match. It has been two months since they began their weekly chess matches in Spock’s apartment. As of yet, Jim has a win-lose ratio of 4:3.

“Check. So, Spock, I was wondering if you would, um, consider dating me?” Jim asks, smiling timidly, as though he feared rejection. 

“I was under the impression that these were, indeed, dates, Jim.” The other man’s eyes widen, and his lips part, as he gasps. Jim is, for once, uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

“Uh,” He is spluttering, so Spock speaks in his stead.

“I would enjoy a formal date. Is tomorrow evening at seven o’clock agreeable?” 

“Yeah.” He smiles widely.  They continue their match. 

Jim wins.

•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•

They are at a club. Jim is angry. Spock is not sure why Jim is angry, but it’s visible in the stubborn clench of his jaw, in the furrow of his brows and in the flat smile that does not reach his bright blue eyes. Spock is not sure that their third official date is going well. Everyone in the group can tell that Jim is not entirely well. Pavel keeps shooting glances at Hikaru. Leonard and Montgomery are ingesting alcohol like usual, but they each keep trying to make small talk. Finally, Nyota decides to take action. “C’mon, Chris.” She grins, looping an arm around Christine Chapel’s waist. “Let’s go dance.” Nyota meets Spock’s eyes as she walks past him and whispers under her breath, “Fix it. Now,” as she and Chapel disappear into the crowd.

Pavel speaks up next. “Yeah, Hikaru and I are going to go over there, to dance.” Pavel grabs a protesting Hikaru by the wrist and the two are absorbed into the mix of gyrating bodies. 

“Jim,” Spock treads carefully.

“You love her.” The words tumble out of Jim’s mouth abrupt and accusatory. “Uhura.”

“I do.”

“How could you?” Spock realizes that he was wrong. Jim is not angry--he is hurt, he is sad, but worst of all, he is defeated. Such a look does not suit him.

“You did not allow me to finish speaking. I love her as a friend and as a sister. She is  _ skan _ .” Jim’s eyes widen in realization, but his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“But you two dated? And now… She’s your student?” When Jim does not continue, Spock replies.  
“Yes, we dated a few years ago. I… had hoped that in courting her, I could make my father proud. However, Nyota and I soon realized that we were not a suitable match. We ended our involvement on amicable terms. She and I remain friends.”

“Oh.” Jim is quiet, and his eyes are downcast. “I’m sorry--I didn’t know, I just saw you two and the way you said her name was… I didn’t think you’d cheat or anything. I just thought that you still had feelings for her.” Jim nods awkwardly. Spock clears his throat.

“Jim, would you care to dance?” Jim’s entire posture straightens and he flashes his signature smirk.

“You betcha’ pointy ears I would!” 

“Jim.” Spock chastises, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m teasing! Let’s go.” Spock is willing to dance, is willing to make a fool of himself, if it meant that Jim would smile again.

•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•

Spock is lying with his back on the grassy hill of a neighborhood park, his arms folded under his head, staring at the constellations above. Jim is next to him. They are on a "date". 

"What's your favorite..."

"Book?"

"Sure. What's your favorite book? Mine is probably... Great Expectations." After spending so much time with him, Spock is no longer surprised by Jim's extensive taste in the arts.

"I have always enjoyed Lewis Carroll's Alice In Wonderland." 

"You? Enjoyed Alice In Wonderland?" Jim's voice is so openly incredulous that Spock almost smiles. 

"My mother often read it to me when I was a child, before I went to sleep at night." 

"Your mom sounds cool.” It is silent but for the sound of the trees shivering in the wind. “Will I ever meet your parents?" Spock is surprised, but in coming to know Jim, Spock has become adept at recovering from his shock.

"I do not know. My father... Is less than pleased with my current life choices." Jim sits up abruptly, his eyes searching for answers. 

"Meaning what exactly?" Jim is upset. "Is he upset that you're gay?" 

"Yes, though he is more disappointed that I did not pursue his education and occupation." 

"So he's pissed that you aren't training to be an ambassador or a diplomat or some shit? So what? It's not like you're wasting your life! You’ve got a job with Starfleet and you’re on track to ship out in a year. He’s your father! He should be proud!" Spock leans over, and softly presses his lips to the other man's head. 

“It is of no matter,  _ ashayam _ .” 

“Spock?”

“Yes, Jim.”

“What’s…” Jim pauses. “‘Ashayam’ mean? It was never mentioned in my xenolinguistics classes.” 

“It is Vulcan for ‘beloved’.” 

“Oh. I… it’s...” Jim is surprised. “Ashayam. I like it.”

They sit there for a few minutes more, just watching the stars.

•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•

Spock is at Jim’s apartment. The voices filter in from the next room but with his acute Vulcan hearing, Jim and his roommate might as well as be in the same room.

“Jimmy, this better not be another Gary. You know how-” The doctor’s Southern accent is becoming more prominent, as is common when he is agitated (which is also common). 

“Bones! I’m an adult, okay?” Jim speaks softly, but Spock can hear the indignation and hurt in his lover’s voice. “This isn’t another Gary. This is serious.”

“Yeah, you thought that was serious, too.” The doctor is quieter now, and Spock can tell that his words were not meant to hurt Jim but to warn him. Spock listens but the rest of what the doctor says is too quiet to distinguish.

“I can tell it’s different. It’s hard to put it in words.” Jim fumbles for words, and his tone is hushed. “But, this feels more,” Jim pauses. “Natural.” The rest faded into incoherent mumbling, and it is not long until the two return to the dining area in which Spock has been waiting. He does not mention what he heard.

•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•

Spock wakes to find Jim in the living room, seated at the piano bench, staring at the keys and deep in thought. "I didn't know you played." The blond murmurs. Spock sits next to him. 

"I was classically trained in piano and in guitar, as well as several Vulcan instruments as a child. My father had hired an instructor to oversee my studies." Spock pauses. "Do you play?" To which the other man shakes his head no. 

"My mom would sometimes teach me to play a song or just a bunch of chords,” His voice is melancholy. “When she was around." He adds in a quiet voice, almost as an afterthought. Jim does not continue. Spock feels an anger toward Jim's family. Jim’s mother left him for the stars, and from what Spock’s inferred, she left him to a stepfather that deserves infinitely worse than anything prison has to offer. Sitting there on the piano bench in their pajamas, Spock decides that he will be Jim's family.

•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•

It’s just another night. Not unique in anything whatsoever. It’s not a birthday or anniversary or celebration. They’re just young and in love. So it comes as kind of a shock when they are in the middle of intercourse and Jim blurts out, “I want you to meld with me.” 

“Are you certain, Jim?”

“Hell yeah.” There’s a determined edge to his voice.

“Jim, this is no laughing matter.”  
“I want this. I want you.”

“As you wish, ashayam.” Spock continues his ministrations and it isn’t long before Spock feels his climax approaching. He reaches for Jim’s meld points and whispers the ritualistic mantra. Their senses and emotions are intensified twofold and the couple collapses onto the bed, breathing heavily. Jim whistles. 

“Wow.”

“Indeed.”

“Best sex I’ve ever had. Damn, I’d still be hard if I could.” Spock hums his assent. “Oh my God, are you still--how are you ready again?” Jim demands. 

“Jim, I am Vulcan in my physiology--”

“That is  _ so _ hot.” Jim murmurs sleepily, before yawning. “Fuck, I’d go again, but I’m so exhausted.” 

“Sleep,  _ ashayam _ .” Spock presses his lips against Jim’s forehead.

“Mhmm. Love you.” Spock feels Jim’s mind slip into the recesses of sleep.

“And I you.”

•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•

It comes out of the blue. “Spock?” Jim is curled up on the sofa with Spock, his head in Spock’s lap. Jim is reading a book, while Spock grades papers.   
“Yes, Jim.”

“Let’s bond.”

“Jim, bonding is a life commitment. I cannot allow you to make such a decision without first considering the implications of--” Jim sets his book down.

“Spock, I’ve looked into it. I’ve read countless articles in archives and databases and there’s even a book on Vulcan mating rituals that I found--”

“Jim, how did you acquire these articles? Vulcan biology and mating practices are sacred matters only disclosed to the closest family members of the involved.”

“I may have done some hacking--”

“Jim.” Jim waves a hand dismissively.

“It’s nothing I haven’t done before. And _ , _ I  _ may _ have reached out to Ambassador Spock. Y’know, the you from an alternate reality. So  _ technically _ , you helped me.”

“Jim, we have discussed this. He and I have different upbringings and experiences, we are not the same person.” Jim sits up.   
“I know _that_ , but you can’t say you didn’t help me. Because Other you did.” It is pointless arguing against Jim. Spock enjoys their discussions and debates but he would very much like to sleep in his own bed tonight. “Besides, I love you. I’m _in_ love with you. I want to spend every single memory I can with you. I want to muss your perfect Vulcan bowlcut whenever I can, I want everyone to know that I’m yours and you’re mine. I want to go to bed with you and wake up with you. You have the best cuddle, by the way, you’re like a personal space heater.”

“I am glad to know how highly you value my body.” Spock quips.  
“Let me finish, you dick.” Jim laughs, pecking Spock on the cheek. “I want to cook breakfast for you and read with you and watch you watch old movies. I want to play chess with you everyday and have crazy wall sex with you when you give me that look. No, not that eyebrow raise, the _smoulder_. Jesus, I’m rambling… I wanna’ see the stars with you. I want you to be there with me all along the way. I might have to wait a few years before I can ship out but I want to be there with you. ” Jim takes a deep breath. “But most importantly, I want to know you as intimately as I can and I want you to know me as intimately as you can. I can talk and talk all I want but there are some things that you’ll have to _see_ , y’know?” 

“Jim, you are  _ t’hai’la _ . You are all that matters. If this is what you want, then I want it as well.” Tears well in Jim’s blue, blue eyes. 

“Oh my God, we’re totally getting hitched.” Jim laughs, his voice thick with tears.

•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•

As loathe as he is to wake Jim, Spock knows that if he doesn’t, Jim will be late for class. “Jim.” Spock murmurs, his hand ghosting over Jim’s bare shoulder. Spock’s voice is hushed so as to not startle his lover. “ _Ashal-veh_.” The other man stirs.   
“Hm.” 

Jim once described himself as “not a morning person”, and Spock finds that he is inclined to agree.

“You have class in an hour.” Jim abruptly jumps out of bed, clad only in boxer briefs, and rushes to the bathroom to shower and prepare for class. 

“Thanks, hun.” Jim calls from the bathroom. “You’re the best.” Spock steps into the bathroom and adjusts the cuffs of his uniform. He is most certainly  _ not _ stalling. Jim is brushing his teeth when he feels Spock’s lust through their bond. Jim looks up to see Spock watching him in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. Jim smirks. “Enjoying the view?” Spock raises an eyebrow and clears his throat.

“Your coffee is on the table along with pancakes and eggs. You uniform is pressed and on the armchair in the living room. I will meet you for lunch at 1300 hours.” Spock’s internal clock tells him that he will be late if he does not leave within the next two minutes. Jim finishes his dental hygiene routine and dries his hands on a towel before turning around. He is smirking. Spock should leave. Before he does something irresponsible and impulsive. Spock does not move. With two long strides, Jim closes the distance between them. Spock leans in and their lips crash together. Jim’s mouth tastes of mint and something that is entirely Jim. Jim threads his hands through Spock’s immaculately styled hair and wraps his leg around Spock’s hip. Spock clamps down on the desire radiating through their bond and breaks the kiss and his beloved pouts. 

“I will be late.” 

“You’re the professor. You can  _ afford _ to be late.” 

“You are correct. However, _you_ cannot afford to be late, ashayam.”  
“Ever the voice of reason.” Jim smiles and pecks Spock on the lips before untangling himself from Spock and turning to get ready. Spock is walking out the door of their apartment when he hears Jim yell, “Love you!” 

_ And I you. _

•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•

_ “Hey, hun, um, I’m running a little late tonight. Don’t worry! I’m just getting off from work and I’ll take a shower and then we’ll go and get some fancy food. You’re gonna’ love it out there on the Enterprise. Chris Pike is a great man and probably a better captain.”  _ Jim’s laugh is beautiful in its pure glee.  _ “I just gotta make a quick stop, and then I’ll be home. I promise.” _ Jim pauses and Spock can see the cautious look that Jim wears when he’s choosing his words carefully. “Ashau nash-veh du.”  _ I love you _ , he says in Vulcan.

Spock listens to the recorded message. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t cry. He just listens.

But Spock does not listen past the “love you”. Because if he stops right after it, at precisely 46 seconds into the message, he does not hear what follows. He does not hear the screech of rubber tires on asphalt, he does not hear the sound of metal and plastic colliding and crunching and warping. He does not hear the sound of Jim’s phone clattering to the ground and he does not hear the wailing of sirens in the distance.

•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•

**Author's Note:**

> Ashal-veh – darling; person (noun)  
> Ashayam – beloved – beloved person; general term that two people in a relationship might use for eachother. It is derived from the word ashaya.  
> T’hai’la – friend; soulmate; brother; lover (noun). It’s an intimate term of endearment that’s probably best translated as “soulmate” and it implies a very deep friendship and connection that’s not necessarily platonic.  
> Skan - family


End file.
